Fragile
by Mr.Baratheon97
Summary: After the war, everyone forgot Harry. This is Hermione's story of looking after him, and their journey to a more healthy mentality. Disclaimer: I don't own HP.
1. Chapter 1

Hermione's eyes fluttered open, and quickly came into focus. They were currently lying on the single bed of Hermione's apartment, and from the numbness in her neck, she'd evidently been using Harry's chest as a pillow. Since it was the holidays, and no one would be around, Hermione sank back and took advantage of the time she'd have - pretending everything was fine. As if to disrupt her fantasy, the body behind her shifted and let out a whimper. Hermione sighed, and tried to sit up. 'It's ok.' she began reassuring as the boy's tears began. He latched onto her, his face resting in her arms as she ran her hands through her hair. Harry started sadly 'I'm sorry 'Mione, I'm so-'

'Harry,' Hermione insisted forcefully 'it's not your fault. It's never been your fault.'

Harry shook his head and cried for a bit longer. Hermione wanted to cry with him but she needed to stay strong, and she had been for the past year; she hated seeing him deteriorate like this, how his self-confidence became replaced with self-loathing and blame. After the war, everyone promptly forgot about him and mourned the lost - as did Harry. Using her savings, Hermione began to rent this small apartment above the Leaky Cauldron and she alone cared for him. Harry was fine at first - the defeat of Voldemort created a short-lasting sense of relief, revenge and completion. 'But that's just the problem.' Hermione remembered telling Ron on his last visit. It was the numerous funerals that followed that started to break him; Fred's, Remus' and Tonks', even Colin Creevy's put guilty ideas in Harry's head. 'I'm so sorry,' he would apologise to the families of the dead - even the Weasleys, who had no hard feelings at all for him, only love. 'Love,' Hermione scoffed bitterly in her train of thought, 'the thing Harry needs right now but no one can be bothered to give it to him.' She hugged Harry tighter, to let him know she was there. For the past year, Harry had moved into denial; reliving experiences from his lacking childhood in order to 'suppress his self-blame', as Madam Pomfrey had first put it. Some days were better than others - Hermione spent weeks getting this new Harry to trust her, assuring him that she didn't ever want to leave him malnourished in a cupboard under the stairs. At first he had stopped talking completely, and when he did old conversations would slip out. Ron's visits were once the only times he smiled, albeit a small, broken one. Ron would joke around, play with him, bring take out to eat - and Harry loved it. 'I've never had chips before,' he'd say excitedly, 'Uncle Vernon says I don't deserve them...'  
'Of course you do, every single one is just for you!' Ron would say jovially, like nothing was wrong. Though Hermione wasn't as ignorant - everything was wrong. As Harry would nod childishly, Ron would ruffle his hair. With Ron around, Hermione could get some time to be vulnerable. Only Hermione's touch could calm the sadness, anger and fear that had become bottled up in the fragile mind of the Wizarding World's hero: looking after him was a full time job.

Once Harry had calmed down, Hermione took his hand and led him to the bathroom, where she promptly filled the bathtub with hot water. Once it was full, Hermione motioned for him to get in, and he slowly removed his own clothes (Hermione always helped him to pull off his shirt) and sat in, initially hissing at the biting heat but saying nothing. Hermione had felt particularly disgusted when a broken Harry had fearfully whispered to her once, 'Aunt Petunia's not in there with the hose, is she?'  
'No, never.' Hermione had replied, a tear rolling down her cheek. Of all the years she'd known him, Hermione had never realised how abused Harry was. While Harry splashed around, pulling his knees to his chest, Hermione grabbed a bottle of shampoo and began working on Harry's hair. It was comforting, the smells of citrus and nature that Harry had always used. Hermione gently cleansed his head, and today came without protest. On bad days - Hermione noted that it had been two weeks since his last one - Harry would beg and scream, pleading 'I'll be good, I swear!'  
'Harry, it's alright,' Hermione would say automatically, 'don't you trust me?' Harry would always stop at those words, and follow her every notion - 'He loves me, of course he trusts me.' As she rinsed his black hair Hermione realised how lucky she was, that Harry would never question or argue.

The luxury of peace could not be said for others; on one of Ron's particular visits, Harry was reliving the days spent on the run. As they sat in silence in front of the fire, Harry mumbled 'What's the problem?'  
'Harry?' Hermione had queried, as Ron looked on with concern.  
'Well, you've obviously got a problem,' he continued, a sadness in his voice. 'Spit it out will you?'  
'Harry, are you ok mate?' asked Ron worriedly, having never stayed long enough to see Harry have an episode. Harry looked up at Ron, then to Hermione, and then to the floor. Hauntingly, he spoke 'I thought you knew what you signed up for.' Immediately, Ron tensed up and Hermione brought her hands to her temple. 'Did you think we'd be staying in five-star hotels? Finding a horcrux every other day? Did you think you'd be back to Mummy by Christmas?' It was then that Ron became angry, and in a moment all he could see was red. Harry yelled to the ground 'So why are you still here-'  
'Ron!' Hermione shouted, as Ron punched Harry firmly in the jaw, sending him clattering to the floor. He promptly began to cry and, much to Hermione's frustration, scramble away from the two of them. Hermione shoved Ron as she made her way to Harry, whispering comforting words as she kissed his cheek better. Ron was panting as he looked on in shame. He'd just hit his best friend, and it wasn't his fault he was reciting that one moment where he'd left them. Ron put his hands in the air and began to back away. 'Hermione, I'm so sor-'  
'It's not me you need to apologise to.' she spat, taking Harry's arm and leading him to bed. As she tucked him in, fully clothed, he whimpered 'Well, s-sorry to l-let you down,' as more tears escaped for her to wipe away, 'I've been straight with you from the start, I told you everything Dumbledore...'  
'Shhh Harry. I know.' Hermione whispered, kissing his forehead and switching the light off with a flick of her wand.

When she returned, Ron was crestfallen. 'He didn't have to say all of those-'  
'He can't control it you_ prat_!' Hermione yelled, only then remembering to bring her voice down. 'Don't _you_ have any self-control? _You hit him_.' she said disbelievingly. 'He's mentally unwell, and you can't get over a spat that happened years ago-'  
'Hermione,' Ron had said forcefully, grabbing her arm to get her attention, 'so why don't you get him help? St Mungo's, or Madam Pomfrey... anything could help.'  
Hermione pulled her hand out of his grip. 'I _did_, but they said nothing was wrong. PTSD, the healers said.' There was a moment of sheer quiet, before Hermione fumed 'You shouldn't have lost your temper, Ron. You punched his face, and he doesn't understand why! This has got to be the last time you make him cry or I swear to god I'll-'  
'Oh shut it, 'Mione. He's not right, but I know you want to be married to him, having sex and-' Hermione slapped him and glared at his form, the air around them quickly heating from the boiling of her blood. 'Don't you dare, Ronald Weasley!'  
'Hermione, how can you-'  
'You're still arguing? Get lost, Ron.' she ordered, her wand pointing threateningly at him. Since then, Ron hadn't been back. She had reluctantly sent many an owl, telling him that Harry was always asking for him, but there was never a reply - 'He's most likely still guilty, as he should be,' Hermione thought, finishing up with Harry's hair and carefully massaging his wet shoulders. 'No one hurts my Harry, ever.'

Hermione flicked through the post, throwing the bills and adverts over her shoulder. Behind her, Harry began to chuckle. 'What?' Hermione asked, smirking, as she played confused.  
'Haven't seen so many envelopes since I was invited to Hogwarts.' he said. Hermione turned and gave him a smile, patiently waiting for him to tell that story for the umpteenth time. He didn't; holding his spoon awkwardly in a fist Harry continued to stir more sugar into his cereal. 'Isn't that enough, sweetheart?' cajoled Hermione.  
Harry, as if suddenly woken up, said 'What? Oh-' he looked down at his cereal, which was just sugar and cornflakes, without milk. 'I've never really had sugar in my cereal before.' he joked, and the two shared a look and erupted into laughter. It was good, Hermione thought, that he could be humorous at times. It reminded her that Harry - her Harry - was still in there. The laughter began to die down, when Harry suddenly began weeping. Hermione was instantly by his side, asking 'What's wrong?'  
'I w-wasted your sugar.' he said fearfully, expecting a beating.  
'_Our_ sugar,' Hermione corrected, smiling as Harry looked at her in confusion. 'And it's not wasted, look.' She said, taking her wand and summoning the excess of grainy sweetness out of the bowl. Harry could've done that himself just as easily, if he could will himself to. Harry smiled, and kissed Hermione's cheek sweetly, hugging her awkwardly. 'Thank you, 'Mione.' he said, blushing, before actually pouring milk into his bowl.  
'Welcome...' Hermione trailed off quietly, feelings he ambivalence of being both secure and discontent. She loved how sweet and innocent Harry was, and how he could brighten her day. But his mind was so... 'Shattered.' Hermione's thoughts concluded. Without his sense, and emotions, and feelings, this person was just a shell of the person she loved. But she stuck by him for that very reason. Hermione dismissed her hesitance with a sigh, and went back to the post. She took a while to take in the thick envelope of parchment that she had stopped on. It was held closed with a wax insignia of four animals - a lion, a snake, and badger and a raven. Hogwarts was calling her home. She knew that Headmistress McGonagall wanted her to return (either to study or to teach), but she had never considered it before. Not when Harry was so... she shook her head, as if to physically dispel negative thoughts from her mind, and sat across the table from Harry as he ate breakfast. Leaning in, she said 'Harry, how's about today we go to Hogwarts. Would you like that?'  
Harry was clearly hesitant. 'Hogwarts? I'm not sure...'  
Hermione pouted playfully, saying 'Not even for me...?'  
Harry smiled instantly. 'Ok. Anything for you, 'Mione.' he said in a daze, looking at her with endearment. She uttered 'Thank you Harry.' before patting his shoulder and moving to tune the radio. Harry loved listening to Potterwatch, which continued to air after the war. When she asked him why, Harry had replied 'I dunno. It makes me feel better, I guess.' Hermione was sure this was a part of the real Harry trying to communicate, so she always made sure to put it on in the mornings. 'Is Ron coming with us? I hope he is.' Harry asked from the table, childishly hoping she would magic Ron from thin air. He hadn't been round, and Harry clearly missed him. Sadly, Hermione answered 'I don't think so Harry. Maybe next time.'  
Harry nodded, and asked innocently 'Are we going to stay there? I hope they have nice beds.'  
Hermione was brought out of her sudden melancholy, chuckling. 'I hope so to.'

Travelling for the first time in months, Harry gripped Hermione's hand tightly. She have his a comforting squeeze to give him confidence, and talked to him, asking questions, to keep his attention away from the looks being given by passers-by. She heard little snippets of whispers: 'Is that...?', 'No way, he's way to skinny, looks like he's been petrified...' and 'Shall I ask 'em?' were thrown about by the crowd. Harry stepped closer to Hermione and shrank towards her. 'Everyone's looking at me funny, 'Mione.'  
'Ignore it, Harry, it's fine.' said Hermione curtly, trying to make her way through Diagon Alley - more specifically to Flourish and Blots, where she was told she could floo to Hogsmeade. Suddenly, Harry jerked her, pointing 'Hey, that's Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour! He used to give me free sundaes when I was doing my History of Magic homework. I wonder where he is?' Hermione didn't have the heart nor the time to tell him that Mr Fortescue had been carried off by Death Eaters, so instead promised to buy him some ice cream on the way back. Doubly excited, Harry ambled besides Hermione, who strode to the bookshop. Harry became silent as they entered, squeezing Hermione's hand as he became more uncomfortable. 'Breathe, Harry. You're going to see a lot of 'new' places today.' she said, and was satisfied by the long drawing of breath besides her. She used her own key to get through to the fireplace; the bookshop was fairly empty, and Hermione could easily make her way to the back room where she once worked as a clerk. She stepped into the fireplace, followed gingerly by Harry. Grasping his arm for extra support, she said clearly 'Headmistress McGonagall's office!' and threw her floo powder down.

They landed in a heap on a fine tartan rug by the fire, into a well-kept circular office. Harry looked around in awe, memories of his Transfiguration professor's old office surfacing. 'Hermione, are we-'  
'Yes, Harry. We're back.' announced Hermione proudly. This was the place where it had all began, and where it had finished. 'Not for Harry, though.' thought Hermione bitterly. Speaking out, Hermione called 'Professor? Harry and I are here-' In a flash of light, the new headmistress stood in front of them. 'Ah, Miss Granger. _And_ Mr Potter! I'm so sorry I couldn't receive you, but I was caught up with Professor Slughorn, again.'  
Hermione assured 'It's not a problem. I got your letter in the post, could we discuss it now...?'  
Professor McGonagall was eying Harry, who was curiously looking closely at everything in the office. 'Is he...?'  
'Oh, Harry'll be fine. Harry, sweetheart?' Hermione called from the fireplace.  
'Yes?'  
'There are some colourful sweeties on the desk, why don't you find me a nice one?'  
'Ok 'Mione.' said Harry, moving back into their eyesight and sitting quietly in a chair. The two women stood a way behind him, one more worried than the other. 'Miss Granger, what has happened to Mr Potter?'  
'I'm not quite sure. He's been like this for a year. Sometimes he's joking, playful, himself, and then he suddenly switches into this abused, sad, tortured-'  
'I'm so sorry. Is there _anything_ that can be done?' she asked grimly.  
'I think so. But I'm too scared to try. He's so fragile, and I feel like I might break him. More.'  
'Is this a self-induced issue?' Professor McGonagall asked, her voice thick with concern.  
'His mind is... plagued with all of these thought of death, and blame. He-he's got it in his head that it's his entire fault that people died because of him. And he thinks he's worthless.' Hermione noticed a tear had fallen down her cheek as she watched Harry earnestly searching through the bowl of sweets on their teacher's desk. 'Worthless?' said McGonagall in disbelief.  
'Did you know Harry was abused before he came to Hogwarts. His bedroom for eleven years was a small tight cupboard under the stairs. They fed him a day's worth of food over a month and hit him. Living like he knows nothing is his coping mechanism.' informed Hermione, a darker matter-of-fact tone to her words. McGonagall sighed. 'How he managed to stay sane for so long, we'll never know.' With that, the two took seats at the desk, and humoured Harry by accepting the treats he's given them. They discussed schooling, and agreed that they would take residence in the staff accommodation. Hermione planned to get Ron to shift her things to Hogwarts - 'His way of apologising.' she told herself out loud as she and Harry walked to the great hall for lunch.  
'What?' asked Harry in regards to her meaningless words, being the normal Harry at that moment.  
'Never mind. Hungry?' Offered Hermione, as Harry nodded and smiled sadly. He took out a sweet from his pocket and gave it to Hermione, saying 'I owe you a lot, 'Mione. Sorry for being such a bur-' Hermione kissed his lips, stopping his words in their track. Separating slowly, she whispered 'I don't want to here that kind of talk, ok Harry?' He nodded. She wanted to kiss him again, but held back. At the moment, he was too fragile to hold a romantic relationship and she was his carer - kissing was just positive reinforcement. As they walked, their hands slipped effortlessly into each other's and Harry's arm became wrapped around her shoulder. They soon approached the large wooden doors of the great hall and they stood outside, letting the cool air envelop them. 'Shall we?' chimed Hermione.  
'Ladies first.' said Harry, waving his arm and motioning her forwards. They entered the great hall and stood astounded at the sight. When empty, the room had an actual ceiling. 'Wow...' breathed Harry as he held tighter onto Hermione. Suddenly, he froze beside her. 'Harry?' inquired Hermione, only to realise what he'd spotted. A flash of red and orange was heading towards them. 'Harry! 'Mione! I haven't seen you in so long.' Suddenly, Hermione found herself wrapped tightly by Ginny Weasley. 'Ginny!' greeted Hermione, flustered. She hadn't expected anyone to actually be at Hogwarts. She felt as uncomfortable in her head as Harry did in that space. As Ginny was about to hug him, reaching out to embrace a long-distanced brother-

'No! I can't!' Harry yelled, his voice higher than usual, before he bolted out of the great hall. 'Harry, wait!' shouted Ginny, but he was already gone. Hermione frowned, and then smiled sadly at her friend. Quickly, she said 'I'll speak to you later, common room. Got to catch him quick before he panics.' She sprinted after him, and searched the castle for him. Walking around the corridors as the afternoon went on was peaceful, and she guaranteed to herself that Harry would've calmed down by now. She asked the room of requirement for 'a place to feel safe' (as she had taught Harry to always look for), she tickled the pear by the kitchens for information and, more for personal satisfaction, and she visited the library. Huffing, she sat down at her favourite desk by the restricted section before having a thought of realisation. 'The Marauders' Map!' she squealed in her mind, pulling out her beaded bag. Harry begged her to keep it when she originally planned to throw it away, but she fell for those pleading eyes in a heartbeat. She fished for the map for a while before she pulled out the rough fold of parchment, muttering 'I solemnly swear I am up to no good.' Spreading the map fully on the table before her, Hermione used her wand to track the few names moving around the map; Hagrid was with Professor Sprout in the greenhouses and Slughorn was in the headmistress's office – though curiously McGonagall was not. She was in the great hall, with Professors Vector and Trelawney. 'That cow,' muttered Hermione under her breath, remembering the absolute rubbish the Divination professor used to 'teach' them. As that trail of thought ended, she finally spotted Harry – he was by the lake. 'Of course,' Hermione thought as she rolled her eyes at herself, 'he always went there to think.' She hurriedly folded the map back up, and shoved it into her little beaded bag before running to the lake.

Hermione sighed in relief as she turned around the corner, her eyes trained on the contrite silhouette. He stood by the edge of the shadow of the large oak tree, which flourished by the lake. While the setting was calm and serene, the boy who inhabited it was evidently not. He was aggressively throwing stones into the lake, creating large splashes and disturbing the stillness of the water. Hermione edged forward cautiously, unable to read her friend from so far away. 'Harry?' she called, making her presence known as she walked forwards. 'Do you want to talk?' she asked gently, stopping a distance away from him - he may act childish, but he was still stronger than her. He turned around in surprise, dropped the rock in his hand to the pebbly ground and stormed back to the tree, before slumping down the trunk and curling his knees to his chest. Hermione knew he was crying, but didn't want to aggravate him further. 'Harry, do you want me to stay?' she asked, knowing that he would say –

'Please, 'Mione.' he answered, sniffing through his tears. She hurried to his side, wrapping her arms around his form and resting her head on his as he wept. 'I'm so sorry,' he cried, sobbing as Hermione shushed him. 'I can't st-stop, I k-killed Fred-'  
'No!' Hermione yelled, causing Harry to shrink. 'No, ' she repeated more quietly, cupping his face in her hands gently and facing him to her, 'it wasn't your fault. You've got to believe me, Harry. It was not,'; she kissed his left cheek, continuing 'your…', and then planted another on his right before looking at his face passionately. '…fault' she finished, staring into his emerald eyes. They sat there for a while before Harry became slack besides her. Reclined against the bark, they sat in the shade and watched the sun set over the horizon. The sky transformed from a dull shade of light blue to splashes of orange and red on the canvas of the universe. 'Hermione,' Harry said weakly.  
'Yes, sweetheart?' Hermione asked distantly, her mind focused on the hands that were wrapped around her waist. 'I, I l-love you.' He declared, his head resting on her shoulder. She craned her neck and kissed his temple, replying 'I love you too, Harry.'

'…_and_ Ron hasn't been back since, Ginny.' Finished Hermione, who sat on one end of the couch in the Gryffindor common room. Harry, who had fallen asleep in the glow of the fire, lay on the warm couch with his head resting on Hermione's lap – she would occasionally stroke his hair from his face, and he would answer with a content sigh. Ginny exclaimed 'That git!'  
'Yeah,' Hermione agreed, though her heart wasn't in it much anymore. Ron helped Harry most of the time, who'd already forgot that Ron had hit him. As he stirred in his sleep, Hermione studied his face – he was smiling, probably dreaming of a better time. 'So is he completely…?' Ginny asked carefully, not risking saying the wrong thing. 'No, not really. He just needs to accept everything. He won't forgive himself.'  
'If he came to the Burrow, maybe, or-'  
'No!' Hermione cut off, then she smiled apologetically. 'Did you see how he reacted just by seeing you? He'll crumble if he sees all of you at once.'  
'Yeah, you're right.'  
'Just to warn you,' Hermione said prudently, 'he will probably be _very_ scared to see you tomorrow. Took months for him to enjoy Ron's company again.'  
'So he sort of, _reverts_, back every day?' asked Ginny, as if she hadn't quite understood her. 'Yes,' Hermione said, a tint of tiredness in her voice.  
'So, you've been opening him up every day for the past year? Why didn't you tell anyone?'  
'Ginny!' Hermione said insistently, 'No one cared about Harry after the war. I'm sorry,' she added when she saw Ginny's argumentative face, 'but everyone was so occupied with their own lives. I know its not anyone's fault.'  
'Are you're parents-'  
'Still in Australia, yes.' Hermione told her, running her finger across Harry's cheek. 'I should have done more, 'Mione. I am so, so sorry.' Ginny apologised mournfully, with the realisation that Hermione had basically sacrificed her whole life to care for Harry. Hermione laughed sadly. 'Y'know, that's all he ever tells me. 'I'm so sorry 'Mione, _I_ killed them' he says to me.'

Harry shifted in his sleep, making himself more comfortable as his head lay on Hermione's thigh. She shook him gently, and he purred. 'I don't want to…' he whined, yawning as Ginny giggled from her seat on the floor. 'But Harry, don't you want to sleep in a proper bed tonight? With me?' Hermione questioned playfully. Tiredly, Harry pointed out 'You're here right now, aren't you?'  
'Maybe she'd better go then.' Ginny suggested, getting up herself as if to make a point. Ginny noticed how happy Hermione would get when Harry acted so adorably. Harry immediately sat up, and declared 'Ok, I'm ready.'  
The two girls laughed, and Harry smiled. 'Say goodnight to Ginny, Harry.' Said Hermione. 'G'night Ginny.' sung Harry, walking past Hermione to the door.  
'Bye 'Mione. Bye Harry!' Ginny called, before going to the Head Girl's dormitory, where she had been sleeping for the majority of her visit. Hermione was informed that Ginny was taking up the post of Flying Instructor for the first years, after Madam Hooch had decided she'd had enough for one lifetime. The walk to the staff accommodations was a long one; having never been there themselves, it took Harry and Hermione ages to actually find the portrait that hid the rooms. Behind said portrait (who was very unhappy with their late arrival and almost made Harry cry in apology), there was a long corridor of suites. Hermione went to the very end of the hall, where her own room had been established – the door was even labelled 'Ms Granger'. They stepped inside, and Hermione was surprised to find the room as homely as the common room was – a fire was burning, and on the kitchen table lay a warm meal, which Hermione insisted Harry eat first, before exploring the rest of the place. As they ate their dinner, Hermione wondered out loud 'Did Harry enjoy his day?'  
'Very much thank you.' Came his muffled response, his mouth full of bread.  
'Good.' Hermione said quietly, taking a napkin to wipe a bit of sauce off of Harry's mouth. After dinner, their dishes disappeared and Hermione let Harry drag her along to inspect each individual room. 'That bathtub could fit both of us, 'Mione.' Harry exclaimed in wonder as they exited the bathroom. 'Maybe we should try it?' Hermione said, though Harry obliviously ignored her. They finally arrived at the bedroom, where Pat – Hermione's speckled brown owl – sat perched by the window. Hermione, in her own strange way, found it humorous to name her post-owl Pat, and Harry had laughed to despite telling her the Dursleys had never let him watch TV. She scribbled a quick note to Ron while Harry collapsed onto the bed, laughing as he sunk into the covers. After asking him to get their stuff and bring it to Hogwarts, Hermione frowned, and then asked loudly, 'Is there anything you want to say to Ron, Harry?'

There was a pause as Harry thought of what to say. 'Could you tell him I miss him and… and that we love him?'

Harry's use of the word 'love' instantly struck a chord. He was so touching, so caring; it never ceased to amaze her. 'Of course I will, Harry.' Hermione said, adding his message to the bottom of the page and telling Ron that Harry really meant it. Harry quickly got undressed and clambered into the bed, yawning contently as Hermione joined him. He cuddled her, and then reclined, his head momentarily vanishing amongst the fluffy, fresh pillows. He had stopped flinching when she touched his bare skin, his trust for his long-term companion allowing for her to cuddle him till he fell asleep – and long after. Hermione rested her head over his heart and finally let her muscles relax. They had survived yet another day.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione's eyes fluttered open, and quickly came into focus. They were currently lying on the spacious double bed in their new Hogwarts accommodation, but somehow their limbs still managed to become entwined. Hermione sat up, and was relieved to know that Harry hadn't got up yet – yesterday had been an exhausting adventure, and Hermione new it had taken its toll on her baby. She slipped silently out of bed, and made her way to the kitchen area to make a cup of coffee – the house-elves had kindly left the ingredients in her cupboards, having a hunch that she'd need them. As Hermione stirred the granules into some hot water, she thought about her plan for today. 'Ron should get here, _if_,' she reminded herself with a note of irritation, 'he bothered to read my owl.' She took a warming sip of her drink and was sat down sleepily at the table. As soon as her body became comfortable in the alien chairs, a whimper from the bedroom signalled for her to get up again. She put her cup down, and swiftly moved back to the bedroom, where Harry was sobbing into a pillow.

'I d-didn't mean to, 'Mione I swear!' He sobbed harder, letting Hermione pull him into a hug. 'R-Remus… your _son_,' he cried to himself, trying to escape Hermione's grasp.  
'God,' Hermione thought worriedly, 'its going to be a bad day then.' Harry sobbed harder, now screaming 'They tortured me! The cruciatus curse…'  
Confidently, she looked into his eyes and told him 'Harry, its ok. It's going to be alright-'

'How can you say that?' Harry shouted, escaping her hold, and moving away from her so fast he slipped, falling over the other side of the bed and onto the hard wooden floor. He sat up and cried, like a child that had taken a tumble. Hermione moved around the bed and knelt in front of him. Rubbing his leg, she asked gently 'Don't you trust me?'

He stopped crying. His mouth opened like he was about to argue, but he stopped. There was a pregnant moment of silence before he whispered 'Yes, 'Mione.' He didn't say anything else after that. He didn't protest as she filled up the bath, he didn't fight as Hermione scrubbed him down, or when Hermione helped him into a scratchy fresh set of clothes provided by the house-elves. She set a plain bowl of cereal and milk in front of him as he sat, soundless and still, at the table. After she had showered and dressed, she found Harry hadn't touched his breakfast. Charming the heat back into her abandoned mug, she said emphatically 'You need to eat, Harry. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.'

Harry said nothing in response, but Hermione was thankful to see him pick up the spoon besides the bowl and stir hap-hazardously. She sat opposite him, staring at the locks of slightly wet black hair that fell casually over his eyes. He was staring intensely at the soggy cereal, which Hermione noted were encrusted with more sugar. She saw a little bit of milk spill down his chin, and she leaned over to wipe it away. Harry grasped her hand lightly, as Hermione gripped his chin and wiped it with her thumb. Still holding her hand from across the table, his eyes met hers. 'Why do you look after me?' Harry asked emptily, like he didn't fully understand what he was asking. 'Why?' Hermione repeated, wondering where this was leading. He said 'I'm responsible for so many bad things, 'Mione, but you're still here. Why?'

'Do you remember what I said yesterday? By the lake.'

Harry looked down and shook his head, despite the obvious smile that threatened to spread across his face. 'Because,' Hermione said truthfully, 'I love you.'

Harry blushed for a second, but then he frowned. 'How can you love me? I-I'm a freak, I can do magic, I talk to snakes, I-'

Hermione leapt across the table and planted a small but meaningful kiss on his sweet lips – whether from the sugar or his natural taste, she didn't care. 'Isn't that proof enough? You ask too many questions.' She said with a smile.

'Yeah.' Harry agreed hazily.

Harry and Hermione took a long walk around the castle grounds, before stopping by the Quidditch pitch. He would point at different rooms and portraits excitedly, pleasing Hermione with his curiosity. Ginny appeared down the track, walking next to another tall red head with muscular arms, freckles and a thin nose-  
'Ron!' cheered Harry, running to greet him. Hermione raised her eyebrow as Ron tensed, though relaxed as Harry sprinted to hug him. Hermione caught up slowly, looking at Ron judgingly. He ruffled Harry's hair and asked, 'How have you been?'

'Fine. Where've _you_ been?' Harry shot back, jokingly poking his arm. Ron didn't answer, preferring to ignore the question. They walked back to the castle, as Harry continued to ask questions, like 'Did you apparate to Hogwarts, or floo in like me and Hermione?', 'Have you been working? Or just playing like me?' and 'Why didn't you come to see me before?'

'Harry, that's a lot to answer in one day.' Ginny said smartly, saving Ron the trouble of answering. 'Hermione says I ask too many questions.' Harry said, repeating her very wording. The two red heads laughed as Harry smiled sheepishly. Hermione, on the other hand, was annoyed at Ron's dismissive attitude. Scolding, she complained 'You didn't answer or reply to any of my letters. We, _Harry_ really wanted to see you.'

'I am sorry,' Ron said in a voice so sincere Hermione was unsure if it was real, 'I'll make it up to him I swear.'

'You'd _better_.' Scoffed Harry, mimicking Hermione's irritated tone and walking ahead of the group. Ron would've laughed if Harry didn't sound so serious. Harry reached the bridge to the grounds and turned around, calling 'Can me and Ron play chess when we get back?'

Hermione looked at him, and then replied 'First we have to get our things, remember? You don't want to have to wear orange jumpers like that forever, do you?'

'I guess not.' Harry replied thoughtfully as they caught up to him. As they walked, Harry had become more subdued and quiet, which was always a bad sign. Hermione took his hand to stop him running off and squeezed it in support, as Harry gave her a pained look. In a hushed whisper, he told Hermione 'I forgot to apologise to Ginny, for Fred-'  
'It wasn't your fault Harry.' Hermione replied, rubbing his arm gently. 'If it makes you feel any better, she had forgiven you ages ago, not that there was anything for her to forgive you for anyway.'

'But I… now I'm scared Hermione.'

Having heard the exchange, Ginny tapped Hermione's shoulder, and gestured towards Harry. Reluctantly, Hermione let Ginny pull Harry aside, out of their hearing range. Harry seemed frightened at first, but Ginny's words soothed his discomfort, and he visibly relaxed. She gave him a tight hug, and they returned. As Ron and Harry went ahead, Hermione asked 'What did you say?'

'I told him that we – I mean, y'know, 'the Weasleys' – missed him and that he should come to the Burrow sometime.'

Hermione sighed in surprise. 'I thought he was going to have another episode, he told me he was scared to be around you.'

Ginny's eyes suddenly became watery. 'Its 'cause of Fred, isn't it?'

'I'm afraid. Maybe we should go to the Burrow. It might help him accept.'

Ginny wiped her eye, and nodded. 'I'll let Mum and Dad know. Mum'll start cooking a right feast – 'Oh look how thin and wasted you've become, Harry! I hope Hermione's been feeding you proper!' – and then she'll glare at Ron for never bringing him himself.' The two women laughed, turning the corner to find Harry animatedly telling Ron how he'd saved his life. '-and then I shoved the bezoar – odd little rock, wasn't it? – into your mouth, which was a bit weird, but I still saved you.'

'And I thank whoever's running this joint everyday that you were there.' Ron finished poetically, causing Hermione to raise her eyebrows again. 'I do!' Ron insisted, making Hermione grin. Harry gave Ron a small hug before bounding up the stairs, to their room that was one the seventh floor. Harry had to wait by the portrait for Hermione to catch up ('Ron, why would I give Harry the password? He could disturb the other teachers.') and he did so patiently – he looked at the other paintings with curiosity. He sat patiently by the steps, when suddenly the portrait swung open behind him. 'Harry m'boy!' Professor Slughorn greeted, clapping Harry firmly on the back. Harry couldn't help but smile, timidly replying 'Good day, Professor.'

'What's got into you? It's me, Horace.' Slughorn said, become slightly disturbed and confused. 'I-I'm not well.' Harry told him, just like he'd rehearsed with Hermione before. She had told him if anyone asked why he was acting the way he was, to say he 'wasn't well'. Harry wasn't sure why – he felt fine. 'Sick, eh?' Horace repeated, nodding sympathetically as Hermione, Ron and Ginny reached the top of the stairs. 'Hello, Professor.' The three said in unison, as Slughorn gave them a small bow. 'And hello to you, fellow saviours of Hogwarts. It's not often that one is graced with all three-' Harry moved towards Hermione, grasping her hand as Slughorn's words made him increasingly uncomfortable, '-of Voldemort's vanquishers.'

'Yes, well, we'd better get inside.' Hermione said awkwardly, as Horace moved out of the way. Hermione quickly led Harry through, as Ginny struck up a conversation with the potions professor about the effect of light-headedness potions on flying capability. When Hermione finally got their room door open, she forced Harry into a chair and knelt in front of him. Tears were forming again. 'Harry,' she started, speaking clearly to make sure her words were getting through to him, 'it was a good thing you, _we,_ did that summer. Ok? A good thing.'

Harry took a deep breath. 'Good.' Hermione told him, 'Big breaths, ok?' She breathed heavily, rhythmically encouraging Harry to continue. He calmed down and sat back, slouching in the wooden chair.

'Is it ok if I stay here while you and Ron get your things?' he asked quietly.

'Our things,' she reminded, 'and yes. As long as Ginny stays with you.'

'Ok.' Harry said, looking up as Ginny entered, standing besides her brother.

'Yeah, Me an' Harry'll have a blast, no problem.' She said, making Harry smile.

Ron and Hermione quickly left for the Headmistress's office, where Hermione was sure they could get to Diagon Alley from. The walk was tense; with every turn to a new corridor, Hermione was sure Ron had another point he wanted to make against her life choices. She heard him take a slow breath and begin 'Hermione, I'm sorry for what happened last time. Really, I-'

'You don't need to say anything. Harry's got nothing against you, so it's under the rug.' Hermione said shortly.  
'No its not, 'Mione.' Ron said, stopping in the deserted corridor on the first floor. '_You_ haven't forgiven me, and we're not leaving here till you do.'

'Ron, you're doing it again!' Hermione complained. 'Every time, you try to… _dominate_ me, and I'm not going to have it. I don't care whether Harry can't remember that you hit him, or that you left us alone.'

'So it _is_ still about that. I knew you'd never let that go – even when you told _me_ to forget it.'

'What was I supposed to say?' asked Hermione, adding sarcastically 'Everything's going to be exactly the same?' She paused, before telling him 'It was those nights, in the forest of Dean, that I stopped loving you like that. You're a brother to me, but you weren't there when I needed someone most. Harry was there, he was sweet and caring, he looked after me-'

'But _we_ kissed, 'Mione.' Ron said defensively.

'And I regret it every single day.' She finished, walking away from him. She turned around and sighed shakily. She'd wanted to say that for ages, but hadn't been able to bring herself to. 'Ron, can we just get my stuff and act like nothing happened?'

'Sure,' said Ron in a stubborn whisper, 'you've been doing that for months, right?' before following her out the door.

Diagon Alley was a hum of magical wonder and excitement. Without having to look after Harry, Hermione had a bit more time to appreciate the activities going on around her; People were still repairing shops, creating new signs and filling window spaces with fresh panes of glass. Families with eleven-year olds flooded the streets, entering Madam Malkin's and Ollivander's, getting their wands and probably their robes for Hogwarts. Ron and Hermione reached the Leaky Cauldron in silence. Hermione pulled her sleeve up, revealing a sweet charm bracelet, with many key-shaped charms littered from it, She tapped one charm several times, and from it sprung a larger brass key, rusted with age. 'I've always admired your practical magic.' Ron said, smiling optimistically in apology. Hermione raised her eyebrow at him, pushing the stiff door open. She didn't plan on staying long, quickly shoving all of Harry's clothes with hers into a large trunk. She transfigured a piece of parchment into a cardboard box, piling enough books to make a library into it. Filled to the brim, she told Ron to put it on top of the trunk. Muttering a quick spell, the trunk and box vanished, and Ron frowned. 'So what did you need me for?' he asked, like he'd been strung along for nothing.

'You're my witness.'

Hermione tiredly explained as they went to Gringotts. 'So,' she stressed, 'because I'm not a Potter, even though I'm Harry's sole beneficiary, I have to have a non-related, respected witch or wizard present to make sure I'm not doing anything illegal with Harry's money.'

'Which, he can't take himself?' Ron asked ignorantly.

'If the goblins think anything's wrong with him, all of his property and holdings will be seized, along with his wealth. We need it to survive, since neither of us work.'

'I see.' Ron said convincing her of his understanding, though still marvelling at the suggestion that Hermione deemed him 'respected'. They greeted the goblins with surprisingly few insults and objections – they had been, after all, responsible for the most recent break in to Gringotts Bank. It was with the head goblin that they discussed how much money Hermione was permitted to take out of Harry's account. She was both flattered and surprised by how much Harry had allotted her, and recovered the key to his vault from her wrist. 'I hate the way these dragons are kept, Ron. I really do.' Hermione said desperately, having always been disgusted by creature-cruelty. Ron merely murmured a response in agreement, though he was more comfortable with the dragons in the high security levels. Once the vault door was open, Hermione waited for the defensive magic to be 'paused' before shoving piles of galleons, sickles and knuts into her beaded bag. Happy with the amount, Hermione bid the goblins good day and left, Ron at her heels.

'…And then, Ginny took me to the great hall, and we played some chess, and Professor Sprout told the house-elves to bring me ice cream!' Harry told Hermione happily as he lay on the couch of their room, his head resting on her lap. 'Tired?' asked Hermione motherly.

'A little,' Harry admitted, 'but I can still stay up, right? I'm not ready for bed yet.' Harry thought for a moment, before adding 'Unless you are, 'cause I wouldn't want to leave you alone or anything.'

'Too right.' said Hermione, feeling her own blush expanding. Hermione let her hand feel his hair, and relaxed into the comfy couch. It was strange, to see Harry so open in front of others – Ron and Ginny were struggling to contain their laughter at Harry's last proclamation. 'Did you bring my stuff?' Harry asked, to which Ron answered 'Yep.'  
'Awesome.' Harry replied, turning his head to look at Hermione. 'Can we go outside today?'

'I'm not sure Harry. It's getting darker outside now.'

'Don't worry, the Snatchers can't get us – we have so many Disillusionment charms on it'd be damn right hard to see us.' Harry said, making Hermione frown. 'Harry, the snatchers are gone. You helped get rid of them, remember?' She said, putting a hand on his shoulder

'I… I don't understand. 'Mione… I'm scared.' Harry said, frightened. He curled up his legs and shifted further to Hermione. 'I don't believe you, 'Mione. I'm b-bad, a killer, I-'  
'Harry, no one blames you for anything, and you shouldn't either.' Said Ginny in an attempt to put Harry at ease. 'Yeah Harry,' agreed Ron, rubbing the boy's knee to show his support. Harry closed his eyes, as Ron continued 'you've got to accept that. Nothing that happened was your fault.'

As Ron said those words, Hermione felt a pang of hope. She half-wanted Harry to sit up, blink like he'd been asleep, and then act completely fine. But she knew that wasn't likely. Instead, tears had formed in his eyes and he was sobbing into her legs. 'I didn't mean to… the other spells in the book were harmless, I-'

'Shhh Harry, don't worry about it. Just concentrate on breathing.' Hermione instructed, kissing his forehead gently. He inhaled and exhaled, eventually relaxing and falling asleep.

'Sorry, 'Mione. I shouldn't have got him so exhausted.'

'It's fine. You can't really do anything to stop him from having a moment.'

'But still,' Ginny said, 'there's got to be something we can do. I hate seeing him like this.'

'Yeah. But telling him straight didn't work.' Ron pointed out, 'Maybe a healer at-'

'We're doing the right thing. Exposing him to everyone slowly – he's less upset nowadays, and I'm sure he'll get better over time. Do you think I let him rely on me too much?' Hermione asked, looking for an honest answer.

'No way, you're the perfect girlfriend.' Announced Ginny.

'He doesn't see me that way anymore Ginny. I'm his carer, his mother.' Hermione replied despondently.  
'Well, have you shown him how much you _really_ love him? Y'know, a good shag might help him-'

'Ginny!' exclaimed Hermione and Ron at her suggestion. They glared at her, but she coolly said 'What? He's a grown man, isn't he?' As if to prove her point, Harry groaned deeply in his sleep, his hand moving to rest on Hermione's leg besides his head. 'Ginny, listen here. I don't care how perverse you are, Harry and I are not going to have sex tonight!' Hermione averred with a small smile, and Ginny beamed. 'Well, the ideas out there now. That's my job done.'

'Sis, you can't possibly think they'd do that, not in his condition.' Ron assured.

'Hermione,' Ginny continued placidly, 'are you telling me you have no physical attraction towards Harry at all?'

Hermione brought her hands to her face, and groaned. 'Of course I do! We've slept together before, and we sleep in the same bed, and I see him naked what, every day? I'm his girlfriend. I want him to love me back is all, and he can't do that right now.'

'Ok, enough will Hermione's non-existent sex life.' Ron ended tiredly, changing the subject. In Ginny's direction, he threw 'Did you get back together with Dean or what?'

'You're still with him?' Hermione asked, shocked. Last she'd heard, Ginny and Dean were still arguing over his place in her heart, and whether it was truly permanent.

'That's the point. I'm not,' Ginny informed her, looking fiercely at Ron, 'but my idiot brother would rather have me date a long-time friend than a stranger.'

Hermione laughed. This reminded her of an easier time, when they were actual students at Hogwarts. Only Hermione would be the resident librarian this time (she had finalised it the day before with McGonagall). Ginny procured a bottle of Ogden's finest, a glass of which Hermione was more than happy to receive. She took a large gulp, which tickled the back of her throat aggressively. She began to fall asleep, in the warmth of the fire, not being helped by the fact that a sleeping Harry was like a sleeping cat, warming her lap. 'Ron, could you carry Harry to bed?' Hermione asked, and Ron gingerly picked Harry up. Carrying him off to bed, Hermione stood up and yawned. Ginny nodded, feigning understanding. 'That shag's coming a lot sooner than I thought, eh?' she joked, causing Hermione to laugh and wave indifferently, walking to the bedroom. Once Ron and Ginny had left, Hermione began to pull Harry's clothes off. Ginny's words had hit Hermione in a way she hadn't expected; she realised that it was something she did want, and hadn't had in a long time. 'Maybe when Harry's better.' She let herself think, as she pulled off her own clothes and climbed into the covers, wrapping her arms around his naked chest. Hermione decided that she loved Harry the person more than Harry, the reliever of sexual frustration. 'He needs me to be a good girlfriend.' Hermione decided, adjusting her own pillows so Harry's arm wouldn't be completely dead from her weight in the morning. Harry had become physically emaciated after the war, refusing to eat under the impression that he didn't deserve it. He had become so weak that he could hardly walk without Hermione supporting him. She had been the first to get him to eat, telling him that she would fast if he continued to. It worked well – Harry let her feed him and look after him, well after he had given up caring for himself. As she felt his heart beat in rhythm to the rising and collapsing of his lungs, she felt incredibly peaceful. She kissed his rough cheek one last time, made a mental note to shave him in the morning and closed her eyes. There was progress yet to be made.


	3. Chapter 3

_To be honest with you, I'm not sure where this story is heading; if anyone has a suggested plot line they would wish to see with Hermione and this slightly damaged Harry, don't hesitate to let me know via review or p. message. My only ideas now are an emotional visit to the Burrow, and possibly the introduction of Teddy Lupin (being put under his godfather's care?). But even then I'm not sure how to play those, and this one took me ages to come up with. Hermione's in for a lot, but I guess you decide…? _

Hermione sat up, and blinked into the darkness. Her eyes were sore and Harry was sound asleep besides her - it was still night time. Hermione lay back down, and rolled over to put her arms around Harry. He shifted a little, but unconsciously relaxed into her hold, his chest lifting her limb as he breathed. Hermione grimaced mentally, preparing for what her body knew was going to come; shouts, forceful turning and pushing, swatting arms - she'd had it all with Harry. A small whimper from her side and the increasing scent of sweat indicated the beginning of another nightmare. His breathing became laboured, and he turned to his side, so that he faced away from Hermione. She wrapped her arm around his waist more tightly, using her body to cocoon him. He whispered 'No...' fearfully, his trauma coming back to haunt him. She felt Harry's body fight against her grip, wriggling away from her. She held him closer, strengthening her touch and nuzzling his neck as he began to cry in his uneasy slumber. Tears were falling from his face, and Hermione's adjusted eyes detected the trembling jaw and clinging hair. Harry shook and turned in Hermione's arms, pushing away when with an imaginary flash of green light- 'Cedric, NO!' Harry sat up with a jolt, sobs immediately shaking his frame, and Hermione pulled him into a domineering cuddle. She kissed his temple and shushed him, giving him statements of encouragement and calming as he recovered. He sniffed and mumbled 'I'm such an idiot.' making Hermione hug him tighter. His head on her shoulders, she moved them both back into the comfort of the sheets, letting his own arms climb by her waist. In the darkness, she reminded matter-of-factly 'You are not-', Harry sighed sharply, '-an idiot.'  
'Stop!' Harry yelled, pushing away from her, rather harshly. He sat up again and glared at Hermione (well, more in her general direction). 'Stop lying to me!'  
Hermione was flustered and confused, for Harry usually never questioned her judgement. 'What are you talking about?' she asked hotly, before reaching out a gentle hand. He swatted her hand away like an irritating fly and asked, pained, 'Everything is my fault. Why don't you just say it?'  
_'Because_,' she clarified as if it were the most obvious thing, 'you are not to blame for anything that happened. You're no dark wizard, Harry.'  
'T-then why don't... w-why do _I_ feel so responsible? I hate… _me_.'

There it was, the first admission. With a child-like, feeble gasp Harry promptly began to wail and ball tears of despair and more simply, confusion. 'Sometimes I feel like that too.' Hermione thought sadly, leaping at him from her side of the bed and closing the distance between them. She grabbed him in an envelope of heat and soothing, soaking up his tears and his fears. She felt him stiffen at first, but gradually relax. After a good half-hour, his weeping lessened and he became more tranquil. In the quiet of the early morning, Harry said 'Why won't you hate me? I deserve it.' Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but no sound escaped due to her lack of what to say. 'Don't I?' Harry added, a lot more hesitantly in a voice giving away his insecurity. 'No.' Hermione answered quietly. He nodded and allowed her, once again, to cover him in the duvet. There was a period of absolute silence, in which she assumed Harry had fallen asleep. So, it came as a surprise when Harry's voice caught her attention: ' Um, 'Mione?'  
'Hmm?' Hermione sounded, her tiredness ebbed. She turned onto her side and felt him move closer towards her. She assumed that he found comfort in the familial touch of another person – a feeling she knew he'd been long deprived of.  
'Th-thanks for not, er, hating me.' he sniffed softly with a yawn. Hermione's heart flushed with a strong love. Taking his hand in hers, Harry once again began drifting off into sleep. The aura of blue surrounding the curtained windows bathed the room, creating a peaceful air that aided the occupants' rest. The four o'clock sun was young, and gave a notice of the new morning that was now fast approaching. Hermione, in her desperate effort of excitement, found it difficult to keep her woken eyes shut. She felt much more at peace staring at the face of a contented Harry who lay calmly beside her for the first morning in a year and more.

Hermione's eyes fluttered open, and quickly came into focus. There were currently tangled in a way that confused her, as she wondered where the knot of limbs could have possibly started. She could tell from the abundance of sunlight that they had unintentionally slept in, not that she was wont to complain. As she shuffled to separate them, Harry groaned and turned, wrapping her back up and undoing her progress. 'Wakey wakey,' she thought reproachfully, extracting an arm to stroke Harry's hair out of his face. Harry's eyes opened slowly, and for the first time in almost a year he didn't sob as he awoke. He playfully grumbled 'A few more minutes 'Mione...' before burying his head back into his pillow and trying to take her with him. Hermione grinned widely despite herself; she couldn't help but feel good, knowing that at least somewhere at Hogwarts progress was finally being made. She tickled his ribs childishly, and received a joking, infantile response of regaled laughter. 'What the- _Hey!_ 'Mione, stop-'  
'Then get up!' Hermione ordered, and Harry quickly obliged. He shot out of bed, and quickly (though unsteadily) walked out the door and in the direction of the bathroom. Hermione rolled her eyes, and mumbled a short 'Finally.' As if to egg her on, he stuck his head back and jeered 'Coming?' Hermione chased after him, later filling the tub and beginning work on his hair. While Hermione was glad, and thankful, that Harry was opening up, she was chagrined by his incessant splashing – she had to charm her top dry several times. Harry, seemingly normal, also tried very hard to pull her in with him, though she managed to restrain him enough to wash the shampoo from his face when a little bit of soap got into his eye. Hermione became increasingly aware of her deprived lifestyle when they were in the bedroom getting dressed; Hermione bent over to pick up her cardigan, and when she looked up, Harry was stood right behind her – she knew because she bumped into his bare chest as she turned around. Harry took her startled arms by the elbows in his hands, and she instinctively leant forwards into his body, into an affectionate hug. He had kissed her head, let his hands wander up her back and with a smile whispered 'I owe you one.' before going back to his clothes as if it were nothing. Hermione sighed and couldn't stop smirking. 'Of course he loves me.' She assured herself once again.

The two of them, now dressed and fed, made their way to Gryffindor tower with the hopes of seeing Ginny again. Harry had given a disappointed groan when the Fat Lady informed them that the common room was empty. 'We climbed all these stairs for nothing!' he complained, leaving Hermione to conclude that Ginny must have woken early to practise some Quidditch. Harry insisted they go to the Great Hall, cleverly suggesting 'Maybe she went to get a late-ish breakfast?'  
'Possibly…' Hermione replied in a thoughtful whisper, letting Harry take her arm and drag her to the enormous wooden doors stood at the front of the castle. They shared some laughter as they clumsily descended, making their way a lot slower when they accidentally knocked over a suit of shining armour with a loud clash. 'Harry, careful!' Hermione warned, when he didn't even let her stop to sort out the jigsaw of metal. She wondered whether their midnight chat helped to dispel any nerves or doubts in him, because as of then he was becoming quite rambunctious. Since the defeat of Voldemort, Harry Potter had never been so '…playful.' Hermione pondered, irritated. 'If I'd had know Hogwarts would be this good for him, I'd have got here a lot sooner.'  
They had reached the bottom of the grand staircase, and were immediately hit by a cooling autumn breeze. A few sienna leaves floated in from the courtyard, dancing with a small twist before being shuffled into the corner by the wind. Hermione was inescapably reminded of the Yule Ball, where she and Harry were not partners, but had shared a clumsy dance. That was almost a completely fond memory – if not for Ron's rude attitude and stinging words. It was in the Great Hall that they found Ginny, sipping a mug of coffee over her Daily Prophet, a paper to which she used to contribute. Ginny smiled as she caught them approaching, giving Harry an innocent kiss on the cheek that made him blush profusely. 'Any important headlines?' Hermione asked, watching Harry as he played with some of the abandoned cutlery. 'Just some stuff about the Chuddley Cannons getting relegated, and Knockturn Alley getting cleaned up some more.' To spark Hermione's interest, Ginny added 'There was a small side-article published a couple days ago titled 'The-boy-who-reappears?', detailing a sighting of one Harry Potter in Diagon Alley.'  
Harry looked up from his game and asked disbelievingly, 'I was in the newspaper? No way!'  
'I'm surprised it didn't make the front page, knowing reporters like Rita.' Hermione said grudgingly. Ginny laughed, and said on a more serious note 'Well, he had so much publicity after the war…' There was a pregnant pause, after which Ginny asked Hermione when they were planning on visiting the Burrow. 'How's some time next week? Only I want to get Harry completely used to Hogwarts and other people again, and-'  
'It's alright Hermione.' Ginny said casually, 'When he's ready.' Hermione thought that a week would be long enough, especially with the headway she'd made. They talked for a while longer, before Ginny playfully whispered to Harry 'Do you want to help me feed the Thestrals in a bit?' After the war, almost everyone could see them. Harry instantly looked to Hermione, asking 'Please?' like a child pleading for sweets. 'I don't see why not.' Hermione conceded, more surprised that he had asked her for permission first. Taking Hermione's hand, he led them to the clearing by Hagrid's hut, which was unoccupied due to the half-giant's holidaying in south France. The community of thestrals had grown, so much so that there was already a small group in their sight. Harry kneelt on the ground and laughed giddily as a smaller, baby thestral nibbled at the chunk of dry meat in his hands. 'Hey 'Mione, look! I think he likes me.'  
'Well, who wouldn't?' Hermione retorted spiritedly, joining him and patting the leathery skin of the young creature. Ginny tried to feed it a piece of apple, and the animal fled back to its mother. 'Aww,' Harry moaned sadly as it disappeared into the bushes of the Forbidden Forest. Hermione watched thoughtfully as the herd vanished from their eyesight. 'If only Harry could have had a proper family like that. Together.' Harry sat in the dirt for a while longer, before proclaiming 'I'm bored now.'  
Ginny turned in incredulity, saying 'But Harry, we basically just got here.'  
Hermione looked at Harry's pleading expression and folded. 'Why don't we just leave the food out for them to eat at their convenience, and then we can to go do something else?'  
Harry promptly leapt up with a cheer and laughed in Ginny's face. It was laborious to spread the mixture of meat and fruit by the edges of the Forbidden Forest, but Harry was more than eager to help and proved quite efficient. He was analysing a whole yellow-red-green apple in his hand when suddenly he said to the two women, 'What are they?'  
'Apples, Harry?' Ginny replied, while Hermione supressed a smile to silently indicate to Ginny to ignore his episode. 'You can see them too?' Harry continued, only to then shudder and throw the apple into the tall trees. He rubbed his hand and then said 'Does anyone feel like camping? 'Mione will have to show us how, 'cause the Dursleys have never taken me…'  
Ginny, having heard much of the trio's adventure leading to the climax of the war began 'But Harry, you went with Ron and…' but then trailed off. Harry turned to look at her expectantly, but then looked away again. Now engrossed with the movement of the flowers in the growing wind, Harry's attention moved away from the two. 'Don't worry too much about it,' Hermione told Ginny dejectedly, 'he's been getting better. Just this morning we had a little talk.'  
'Oh? And how'd it go?'  
'Great. I really think that the real Harry will be back soon.' Hermione cited happily. Harry came back to them and put a shaky hand on Hermione's arm. 'Can we go back inside now?'

Much to Hermione's relief Ron stopped by later in the day, engaging Harry in a throwing game using an old quaffle. Hermione had been glad for the distraction, taking the time to find her own leisure activity; reading all sorts in the Hogwarts library. More often than not, she would pick a random book and simply begin reading - becoming engrossed in stories and ideas helped her to deal with her own life. 'Harry didn't read much, now or before the war.' Hermione contemplated sadly. She wondered if reading to him might help, but decided against it. She was more than pleased with the morning's conversation. She had every plan to work on it, and helping him to accept the things that had happened. Mid-thought, she was miffed to hear a cry of 'Harry! It was an accident!' before Harry himself rushed into the library crying, followed by a red-faced Ron. 'Ron!' Hermione hollered, pulling Harry closer and hugging him as she inspected the blooming lilac on his cheek. To Harry, she asked 'Oh sweetheart, what happened?'  
Ron quipped 'We were just playing with the quaffle, and then he missed it and-'  
'Ron hit me!' Harry said, a childish anger growing in his features. He turned angrily away from Hermione and yelled 'Get lost, Ron!' before running off and shoving Ron as he went. Hermione raised an irritated eyebrow at Ron, who repeated 'It was an accident.' in a huff.  
'You're really pushing it, Ron...' Hermione grumbled, before leaving the once peaceful library in search of her scorned charge. She hated losing Harry in Hogwarts more than anything, especially when the Marauders' Map was conveniently on the other side of the castle. She tried not to panic when she found the Quidditch pitch, the Great Hall and hospital wing all empty. She thought very carefully, and was made even more disappointed with the realisation that she hadn't even remembered to check by the lake.

And of course, he was there: curled up by the oak tree and brooding silently. The air of the afternoon was energetic, pulling the strands of grass into wonton directions and spreading fallen leaves around. Hermione strode up to him and knelt besides, putting her arms out and initiating-  
'I didn't mean it 'Mione!' Harry cried suddenly, grasping Hermione in a desperate hug. His crying seemed to have abated, but she knew very well from experience that one couldn't make assumptions. 'Didn't mean what, sweetheart?'  
'I don't want Ron to go away again! _And I told him to!_ Now he hates me!' Harry bawled, shrinking into her hold. Hermione exhaled and stroked his hair, in an effort to calm him a bit. 'No one's going anywhere. Ron is as much your friend as I am.' Harry abruptly stopped whimpering. 'Oh,' he thought out loud, wiping his face with his sleeve. Meanwhile, Hermione was wondering just when she'd receive her OWL for childcare. She picked him up off the floor, and together they returned to the castle. The walk was quiet, but Hermione could hear Harry sniff occasionally as they climbed the stairs. 'Got a cold?' Hermione asked softly.  
'No…' Harry replied, who was absent-mindedly watching a scantily clad woman in the portrait behind her head. She took his hand forcefully and pulled him away, up several flights, vexed by her irrational jealousy. 'I don't have anything to fear. Harry loves me… right?'  
Harry spoke bashfully as he pointed behind them 'That lady in the painting downstairs was giving me funny looks.' Wondering angrily how she could be jealous of a painting, she mumbled back 'Maybe you should avoid her from now on.'  
'Ok 'Mione'. Harry replied dutifully, squeezing her hand. Hermione looked back at Harry curiously, and thought 'Is he testing me? I must be losing my mind…'

'Harry! Hermione!' came a shout several levels below them. Hermione's mind instantly identified Ron, who Harry was leaning over the edge of the platform to see. 'Yeah?' he shouted back, waiting for the ginger to catch up. It took a while, before a wheezing Weasley made it to them. 'All these years, and a guy never get used to these bloody-'  
'Mind your language, Ron!' scolded Harry in a tone not too dissimilar to Hermione's. Ron laughed, and Hermione smiled too. Harry raced ahead in order to get to their lodgings first, leaving Hermione and Ron to themselves. The air immediately became tense, and Ron wasn't that stupid not to notice. 'Hermione, about earlier-'  
'You do remember what I said a while back about you making him upset, don't you?' she asked threateningly, making a point of drawing her wand and twirling it. Ron's face shifted to a look of annoyance. 'Oh c'mon, it was an accident. I didn't mean to hurt him. And look, he's fine now.' Across from the staircase, the glass windows rattled in their frames as the wind began to get riled. 'That's not the point, Ron!' Hermione stressed, her arms sailing over her head dramatically. Stomping up the next few stairs, she told him 'Harry was crying earlier telling me how afraid he was that _you_ were going to hate _him_, though _you_ hurt _him_,' and when he furrowed furious eyebrows added 'accidental or not.'  
Ron, despite his ire, said nothing. It was too late to quell Hermione's own rage – Ron was the foremost expert in how to get her started. 'You're so irresponsible! You wonder why after the war I confiscated his broom, and then you get him hurt with that ruddy quaffle, and for nothing! If I had a knut for every time you've strung him on to something that gets him hurt I'd-'

'Hermione!' Ron shouted, interrupting her train of thought. He grasped her hand tightly, almost painfully, and yelled 'I'm not purposely going out of my way to hurt Harry! How much of an arse do you think I am? Just goes to show what kind of opinion you have of me…'  
'It's not like you don't give me a reason to think this way, Ronald.' Hermione fumed, aghast as she ripped her hand away from his. 'You don't understand him-'  
'What? Like _you_ do? Oh, come off it Hermione.' Ron shouted as he climbed several more steps, his plans on hanging out with the two till later quickly evaporating in the heat of the moment. The two were oblivious to a listening Harry, who was frightfully cowering behind a suit of armour. Ron carried on 'Why would you know him more than me? '_PTSD_' won't ever make him love you like you love him Hermione!' A window burst open from the force of the wind, and the pane clattered loudly. 'That is not what this is about!' Hermione insisted, her voice fraught. 'I've stuck by him every time, but never have you!' Her voice took on a more reprimanding tone and she shoved Ron as she furthered, 'Do I have to remind you what happened in fourth year, or near Christmas on the run? _You_ left _us_! _Honestly_, you can be such a git I-'  
'STOP!' yelled Harry, who had come out from his hiding spot and was clearly crying. Hermione's stern demeanour immediately softened, as Harry came towards her. Both were surprised at how frightened he was, almost reluctant to even go near them. 'Stop, _please_. I'm sorry- I'll be better next time, I swear!' he begged, bursting into a fit of tears. Hermione rushed to him, and gave him a bone-crushing hug to dry his eyes. Ron said softly 'Hey, buddy, it's not 'cause of you. We're really sorry. Especially me.' Ron tried his best to ignore the daggers Hermione was glaring at him from above Harry's shoulders. Harry sniffed, and then whimpered 'Ok.' At that moment, Hermione seriously struggled to refrain from sending a stinging hex at Ron, who Harry broke their embrace to hug. 'I'm sorry for what I said before, I didn't mean it, honest.' Harry apologised earnestly, as Ron nodded. 'Me too, mate.' Shell-shocked, the once intimate, now tense trio climbed the last few steps in silence, before Harry took Hermione's hand and walked her into their quarters. Ron stood in the doorway, before clearing his voice and muttering awkwardly, 'I'd better go. Mum needs me to get some gnome-repellent. See you, Harry. Hermione.'  
Hermione made a point of not replying, but striding away into the bathroom, and slamming the door behind her. Harry quietly replied 'Bye Won-won.' with a smirk, before closing the portrait behind his exiting friend.

Harry didn't eat dinner, or go to bed, or anything. Instead, he slumped down by the wall across from the bathroom door and brooded for a long while. He could hear Hermione crying from inside, but there was nothing he could do outside. 'She'd be much happier without me…' Harry thought darkly. 'Maybe I should just go.' Harry concluded, truly believing that this would be what Hermione would want most. He had grabbed his coat and was about to make his way out when the bathroom door opened, and Hermione stepped out. Harry was pained to see her own watery, bloodshot eyes, and began to tear up for her sake. Weakly, she said 'Where are you going?  
'Away. So you can be happy. It's all my fault.' Harry admitted, a tear now falling down his cheeks. Hermione padded forwards and snatched his coat, ordering 'Sit back down, you're not going anywhere.'  
Harry sat down, with a well-behaved 'Yes 'Mione.', though he still felt like a child attempting to run away from home. He sat on the sofa and closed his eyes tightly, simply to avoid having to see Hermione so sad again. He heard (and heard) Hermione sit down next to him, and could feel her stern gaze breathe down his neck. 'Um, 'Mione?' he asked, only for a single finger to stop his lips from moving. 'Shhh, Harry. I need you to do something for me, ok? And actually, maybe keeping your eyes closed will make it easier.' Harry nodded in compliance. 'Just… follow your instincts.' Hermione whispered, before her soft, damp lips pressed onto his own. The sudden sensation Harry felt deep in his chest confused him; he felt a sudden raw passion awaken within him, but was scared of what it meant. He awkwardly kissed her back, his technique absent. Just when he was starting to enjoy the touch, Hermione broke away, and she rested her head on his shoulder. 'I shouldn't have done that, I'm sorry.'  
Harry couldn't answer. He was very confused – 'kissing lips only happens when people love each other, right?' he wondered. Hermione sighed deeply, before removing her head and standing up. She firmly took Harry's hand, and with his yawn, led him to bed. She could answer any of his questions in the morning, for now she – _they_ – needed to sleep and think things over.


End file.
